


A Long Day

by BlackWidette



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story RPF, American Horror Story: Asylum, Real Person Fiction
Genre: Exhaustion, Filming, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Nausea, Nervous System Response, Past Rape/Non-con, Rape, Repressed Memories, Trauma, Traumatic Experiences, Triggers, Vignette, overwhelm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-28
Updated: 2020-08-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:01:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 934
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26163073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackWidette/pseuds/BlackWidette
Summary: Filming scenes for Asylum take their toll.
Kudos: 13





	A Long Day

The key shook in her hand as her trembling fingers pushed the thin piece of metal into the lock and she stepped inside. Closing the door and locking it behind her, Sarah put the chain in and flicked the latch across before turning to look at her empty apartment with a sigh. Toeing off her shoes, she was relieved to be safely shut in her own little world where everything was easier, where she could just breathe, freely and simply. 

Walking past the loungeroom to her bedroom, she dumped her bag on the bed and dropped her keys in the bowl she kept on her bedside table. Losing items of clothing on her way around the bed to the bathroom, she stepped over the threshold finally naked, finally free.

_How long will this keep going?_

Turning the shower on, she stepped under the warm spray, feeling utterly spent as she took the shower head off its holder, the silicon covered hose feeling comforting in her hand. Home. She was home. She was safe. 

She sunk to the base of the shower holding the shower head to her chest, facing the stream of water towards her, blasting her sternum and heating her skin.

She took a heavy breath in. It had been too long of a day. 

_Hands were all over her, the weight of her demons sitting on her pelvis, hands crushing around her neck, the fabric of her top being ripped and tugged from her frame, her kicking legs being caught and held down, being flipped onto her stomach, hands pulling her up by the hips, the skin of her knees becoming bloody as they tore on the concrete, her chest and cheek being pressed into the granular grey, her bottom in the air, her skirt being thrown over her lower back, cold air hitting the backs of her legs, stubby fingers tearing her underwear down, the head of an erection pushing against her labia-_

She retched and hurriedly brought her free hand up to cover her mouth. How she wished there was something to bring up other than water, just anything of substance to expel so she would feel cleaner, purged of the grime that was festering inside of her.  
Feeling her empty stomach's walls heave inwards again, she dropped the shower head and scrambled forwards onto her hands and knees in the tub, gagging as bile hit the back of her throat and she vomited into the drain. 

Her nostrils and throat burned with stomach acid as she retched before falling weakly against the wall of the tub, awkwardly pulling her legs around in front of her to hug them, the bones of her knees and ankles sliding uncomfortably against the porcelain in such a cramped space. 

Letting her head drop back against the rim, she blindly grabbed for the shower head until it was grasped firmly in her hand and she brought it back to her chest, the water cascading it's comforting warmth down her huddling torso.

She was so tired. Today had been yet another fifteen hour day on set. She absolutely adored her work and the incredible people she had the fortune to work with, just lately... things had been taking their toll. 

It must have been noticeable because Jessica had caught her in passing near the trailers, offering kind words that made her heart swell yet caused her skin to crawl with shame. 

Four days...

For four days they'd been filming scenes with Zachary in his character's torture basement...

He was a dear friend and a beautiful human, and he'd been nothing but gentle in every moment before and after each take. The whole crew had.  
Ryan had the awareness to call for a break about three hours in on their first day when she couldn't get her lines out for shaking and Zachary had immediately clambered off of her to pull her up to sitting with genuine concern in his eyes before she'd asked for a moment and hastily disappeared into a corner to let her nervous system release it's building trauma in waves of tears.

Since that first scene, with her wrists held in manacles and Zachary's weight on her hips as he tore her shirt open, the memories of her own assault had began to slowly leach from where she kept them locked away in the darkest depth of her mind and she'd gradually slipped into some detached form of living in order to be able to get through each day in that basement.  
They had another two days scheduled and she didn't know who she'd be when they reached the other side of it. She hardly recognised herself now...

As an actress she felt priveleged to sink her teeth into work that was so gritty and raw. 

As a woman, she wanted these realities told. Because they were real. They happen... These fucked up experiences are a reality, on various scales, for so many women. 

But as a closeted survivor... she was drowning.

The water had been running cold for some time and her bones were beginning to ache from shivering so she heaved herself clumsily to standing with reserves that she should be nurturing and refilling, and turned off the taps before climbing stiffly from the tub. 

Wrapping herself in towels, she left the bathroom moved over to the bed to dig through her bag for her phone, gingerly setting herself down and sending a message off to Jessica before falling onto the pillows and sluggishly pulling a blanket over her in complete exhaustion. 

_'On second thought, I'll grab that therapist's number...'_


End file.
